


The Pandorica Closes

by Rainbowfootsteps



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Episode: s05e12 The Pandorica Opens, Gen, One Shot, Short One Shot, in canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-04
Updated: 2015-12-04
Packaged: 2018-05-04 20:50:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5348081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rainbowfootsteps/pseuds/Rainbowfootsteps
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor's thoughts inside the Pandorica.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Pandorica Closes

“Every star will supernova. Every moment in history will never have happened. Please, listen to me!”

The doors closed, all light disappearing. Damn. The Doctor tried wriggling his hands free, but for his efforts he only received burning wrists. He could feel the familiar weight of his sonic screwdriver in his pocket. So close, yet so far. He tried to wriggle his whole body but to no avail. Reluctantly accepting that he couldn’t get out of the Pandorica that way, the Doctor’s mind rushed to do calculations.

It would take his body exactly 1,143 years to die. His companions could have mere minutes left to live for all he knew. As his mind crunched numbers with feverish speed, the theme song of _Happy Days_ was tinkling around a dark corner of his mind. _Sunday, Monday, Happy Days._ Not so happy now, were they.

Rory needed him. Amy needed him. River Song needed him. The whole universe, even his enemies, needed him. And here he was, stuck in a box. Slightly ironic, really. He’d hoped at least to be stuck in a more familiar blue police box. No, serious thoughts. Chastising himself for getting off track, the Doctor’s mind went back to mathematics, but there was nothing for it to calculate. He started to tap his fingers to count the seconds, to keep something tangible and real, when all other senses were deprived. _One, two, three, four, five._ The world was ending. He had to get out of this. He was the Doctor! He’d faced worse than this! Or… Had he?

The silence was starting to get to him. The Doctor liked silence, sometimes, but not real silence. The quiet murmurs of the TARDIS, or the quiet noise of conversation in a shrouded cafe. This silence was dead. It was suffocating, winding around him and muffling his very thoughts like a heavy blanket.

“Amy! Rory!” He yelled, as loud as he could. Not even an echo replied to him. He was starting to panic, fear overcoming him. _ten, eleven, twelve_ \- his finger twitched and he lost count. He tried to start counting again but his hand was trembling. _One, two_ \- twitch. Was this the end? Not heroic. Not peaceful. A lonely death, at the end of the universe, cut off from everyone else. Even cut off from the TARDIS. The Doctor hung his head. He’d failed Amy and Rory and River Song. He was going to die. All hope escaped him.

Then the door began to open.


End file.
